Chapter 3Late-Blooming Love Is Too Late

When I was woken by noises the next morning, the rain had long since stopped.

Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the world in a bright, clear light, free of shadows.

For a fleeting moment, I almost believed that everything that had happened yesterday was just a terrible nightmare.

But the sound of conversation from the other room shattered that illusion.

I got out of bed and opened my door to see Sophia helping Paul pack a suitcase.

When she saw me, she bit her lip, a picture of shy embarrassment, but her eyes couldn't hide a flicker of triumph.

"Oh, Cici. I'm so sorry, did we wake you?"

"Paul is taking me on a destination wedding and honeymoon, so I came over to help him pack."

I stared at the suit she was holding—a suit I had personally chosen for him—and found myself speechless.

Suddenly, Sophia's eyes welled with tears. "Cici, did I upset you?"

"I'm so sorry. What can I do to make you forgive me?"

With that, she made a show of starting to kneel again.

Instantly, Paul strode over, pulled her up, and wrapped her in his arms, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"What the hell are you doing, Cici? Why are you bullying her like this?"

"We are doing this to fix the plot, to stop the world from collapsing! What right do you have to make her kneel and apologize?!"

"We haven't done anything wrong!"

His voice grew louder, each word a hammer blow to my heart.

I stared at him, a heavy stone lodged in my chest, making it impossible to breathe. My eyes were sore and swollen, but it felt as though I had no tears left to cry.

"Paul, from the moment I walked out here, I haven't said a single word."

My voice was a raw, hoarse whisper, but I held my head high, refusing to let him see how broken I was. "Why are you screaming at me?"

"Do you... feel even a shred of guilt towards me? Your wife?"

He was silent for a long moment, but there was no pity in his eyes, only a cold, detached calm. "Cici, that title—wife—was something you stole in the first place."

"If anyone should feel ashamed, it's you. You took the role that was always meant for Sophia."

A laugh, empty and broken, escaped my lips. I felt all my strength drain away, and I collapsed onto the sofa.

I watched, numb, as they finished packing and left.

A short while later, my phone buzzed.

I picked it up and saw a notification from my bank. A charge from a high-end wedding planning agency.

The amount was over a million dollars.

My breath hitched. The dam of anger and grief finally broke, flooding me with a white-hot rage.

I couldn't take it anymore. I drove straight to the agency.

I burst through the door just as Paul was about to sign the contract.

I snatched the pen from his hand, my voice shaking with fury. "Paul, are you insane? This is our marital property!"

"How can you spend this much money on a wedding for her?!"

Before the staff could intervene, Paul shoved me aside.

He was so strong that a sharp pain shot through my shoulder. I staggered back, nearly falling to the floor.

"You're just a housewife, Cici," he sneered. "I earn all the money in this family. You have no right to tell me how to spend it!"

His words were like daggers.

My world seemed to stop. I couldn't hear anything but the roaring in my ears, as a suffocating darkness enveloped me.

The company, Langford Enterprises, was the legacy my father had left me.

The year I graduated from college, my father passed away from a long illness, leaving me his entire business empire.

During those dark days, I barely slept. It was only with the help of my father's old friends on the board and the constant support of Paul that I managed to keep Langford Enterprises from crumbling.

In our second year of marriage, I became pregnant.

Paul convinced me to step back and focus on our family, to hand the reins of the company over to him.

I never, ever imagined this was what he truly thought of me.

Seeing me speechless, Paul let out a cold laugh.

He ripped the pen from my hand and signed the contract with a flourish.

Then, he took Sophia's hand and walked straight past me, out the door, without a single backward glance.

For the next month, Paul never contacted me.

Then, on the last day, a package arrived.

I opened it. It was filled with photographs.

Wedding photos, travel photos, selfies.

They all had one thing in common: the only two people in them were Paul and Sophia.

And in every single one, their happiness was radiant, practically leaping off the page.